My Thoughtful Spot

jim and helen

We, meaning my brother, sister, and I, grew up in a very interesting neighborhood. We lived in a section of town that had never been incorporated, but the incorporated part of the town grew around it. That meant there were no sidewalks, street lamps, or water meters. We had a different garbage service than the people across the road. The best part was that each lot was huge. Our was nearly three-quarters of an acre. That left plenty of room for a big pool area, a coi pond, or a garden as big as you could handle. We had the pool. Jim and Helen had the coi pond and garden.

Jim and Helen were our totally hip, elderly next door neighbors. They were both retired and either in their late 60s or early 70s. But when you're under the age of 10, anyone over 40 might as well be 100. Both of them were retired and most of their days were spent gardening.

In both the front and back yards they grew a weird, soft grass. Not the usual bladed grass; it was more like clover. I remember being told very kindly that it isn't the kind of grass that can survive kids running over it all the time. It's okay if you had to walk on it every once in a while, but you shouldn't be running around on it.

So when I got sent on an errand to Helen's back door to ask if we could borrow some sugar for the cookies Mom was making, I walked on the 4 inch piece of cement the bordered the clover grass.

We could let ourselves into the back gate to knock on the back door because that's just what neighbors did back then. Before I would complete my appointed task, I would wander in a few more steps to take a closer look at the large coi pond they had just beyond the back patio. It was the size of a small swimming pool with a waterfall at the back and was filled with several large fish.

Sometimes, if it was the evening when I was on my errand, Jim and Helen would be sitting on their porch swing when I opened the back half gate. They would be feeding crickets to the coi, which I thought was the coolest thing ever. There were plenty of bugs where we were, and I never knew if he caught them or bought them at the pet store.

I was always the kind of kid who got bored if I wasn't doing something. (Heh, some things never change.) During the still of the hot summer, I would often wander over to Jim and Helen's to see if they needed help weeding. On very special occasions, as a break from weeding the front yard, Jim would take me around the back, past the towering walnut tree, to where his fruit and vegetable garden was. We didn't get to back there very often, but from what I remember, they grew everything... tomatoes, cucumbers, strawberries, blackberries, bell peppers, and more. He had put little spikes on top of the fence that surrounded it because the local cats like to use the garden as their own personal litter box and the spikes kept them out. At any given time, there were also at least two gopher mounds somewhere on the property, which indicated a two pronged attack on his garden.

They were always nice enough to share their mini harvests with us. We would routinely get big gallon bags of walnuts (the tree really was gigantic), vine-ripened tomatoes, and an occasional helping of blackberries. In return, we shared our cookies with them.

The time they spent on their gardening had lessened over the years. When I moved out at 18, they were still there. I'm sure they've since passed away, but I'll always remember what great neighbors they were. I've never owned a house, but from talking with my friends and family that do, these kinds of neighbors just don't exist anymore. But a little part of me hopes that somewhere, they're out there, waiting to share a cup of sugar with me through an open back door.

permit #838

As my residency draws to a close, I'm realizing leaving is not as simple as turning in my badge and saying "See ya!" Last week, the chiefs were handed a packet of papers called the "Separation Packet." Apparently several different people at the main medical center need to sign off that I haven't left any loose ends like library fines or unsigned/undictated medical records. Which is odd, because every July I ended up taking care of some former chief's delinquent dictations and they were able to separate just fine.

One of the forms pertained to the VA. I have very mixed feelings about the VA. I love the vets. Here is a population of Americans who, of their own free will or not, defended our country and freedoms at some point in their lives. Often, it was in service to America that they became sick; post-traumatic stress disorder, alcoholism, paralysis, lung cancer... These brave men and women deserve respect and quality, timely care.

I despise the bureaucracy at the VA that prevents the vets from getting that care. A culture exists, not just at the VA, but at any government office, that the less work you can do in a day, the better. Lunch breaks get longer and longer, paperwork gets filled out for the sake of being complete, a phone call to ask a simple question results in six transfers to some other unmanned desck, and corners get cut. That may be tolerable at the DMV, but when people's lives are concerned, step up to the plate and do. your. job.

Back to the form -- the "Employee Clearance Form." I needed to go to various departments to make sure all my stuff was taken care of. The list was thirteen offices long. Thirteen.

1. Supervisor
2. Police (car decal)
3. Employee Health (I can't imagine why they wouldn't sign the form)
4. Uniform (never been there; didn't know where it was. Just got scrubs from the scrub machine.)
5. Canteen a.k.a. cafeteria
6. Library
7. Medical Records
8. Supply/Property Management (huh?)
9. Human Resources/Employee Relations (again, huh?)
10. Rideshare (they wanna know if I carpooled??)
11. Bills, Indebtedness & Travel Advances (because being a resident requires extensive travel)
12. Human Resources/remit badge
13. Resource management

As I was driving over there at 11am or so, I realized I wouldn't arrive until 11:30. Many people would soon be taking their lunch break or already on said lunch break. Add that to the fact that I didn't know where most of these offices were (and they were listed wrong on the form), and I was positive I would be there until 3:30 getting all these signatures. (3:30 VA time is 5:00 rest of the world time = time to go home.)

But luck was on my side and I managed to get all thirteen signatures in just over an hour. Yes, I have lapped the entire campus about three times and, yes, I was sweating bullets, but I was done. And I got lots of well wishes and said goodbye to many co-workers as we passed in the halls.

On one of my laps, my quest reminded me of one of the Twelve Tasks of Asterix, which is an old feature-length cartoon we watched as kids. It was originally in French, then dubbed in English. The general idea is that Asterix and Obelix are two members of a village in Gaul and are able to emerge victorious in battles against the legions of Ceasar by using a magic potion that gives superhuman strength. Ceasar meets with the village leader and a deal is hammered out; if the Gauls, represented by Asterix and Obelix, cannot complete twelve tasks appointed by Ceasar, he will seize their land and property. If the Gauls do complete the task, Ceasar will not only leave them alone, but relinquish rule of Rome to them.

One of the tasks was in Rome, in a governmental building, to get a simple form... Permit #838. Get the form and that task is completed. I found a video of this scene; the quality is a bit bad, but then again, so is my original copy. I don't even know if it's on DVD. If you have ever had to get anything done at a governmental office, then you know all too well this little clip is true.

My favorite part is when they go to the chief adminstrator's office and he's being pushed on a swing by his hot secretary...

graveyard

We grew up in a modest house on a big lot... quarter of an acre. That was enough to hold a sizable pool with a sprinboard and a slide, a lot of fruit trees, and, around the side of the house... the graveyard.

For some reason, the people who lived there before us put up a slat fence with that was in line with the back wall of the house and never planted any grass there or landscaped or anything. These were also people who built the pool and when they poured the cement around it, embedded a nameplate in it that said simply "Marjorie." But I digress. The fence created a large garage sized rectangle that had weeds as tall as you, old nails and screws and other random pieces of metal. My little brother Steven started it calling it the graveyard because he buried his GI Joe guys who died in battle there. (I say little, but it's really only a year and a half difference.) And the name stuck.

I was always really creeped out by the graveyard and couldn't remember why until Steven reminded me a few months ago...

Our only bathroom had one window and it opened to look out into the graveyard. The toilet was right next to the window and we would open it on the rare nice day or when someone was showering. As Steven tells it, he was playing in the graveyard one day and heard someone come into the bathroom. Once he discovered it was me, he decided to have a little fun. He started moaning like a ghost and whispering my name in a really eeire voice that I couldn't recognize.

He was always up to crap like that and must have suspected it was him, because I stuck my head out of the window and started yelling, "Who's out there? Steven, is that you?" But he squished his skinny body up against the house and I didn't see him. So I went back into the bathroom and he started again. That totally freaked me out and the next thing he heard was me yelling "MOM!!!" and running out of the bathroom.

He laughs until he cries to this day when he tells that story.

Terd.

the frozen state

It's been really, really cold here recently. And not just here, but throughout the rest of the state. Much of California almost never gets below freezing temperatures, which makes it possible for us to be the fruit basket of the country. I grew up in the Central Valley, which is where cotton, strawberries, avocados, corn, citrus, and pretty much everything is grown. While I never lived on a farm per se, many of my friends had orange orchards in their backyards. If I went to their house, I would often leave with one or two big grocery bags full of big, juicy, tree-ripened oranges. Then when I was a teenager, me and my friends would get in our car and go out to some orchard and pick a bunch of oranges and throw them into the back seat. Then we would drive back to town, all the while throwing the oranges in front of the car and laugh when they hit and splatted on the windshield. (Hey, gimme a break. There wasn't much to do there if you were a teenager. At least I wasn't drinking or doing drugs. :-P )

So it makes me really sad to know that most of the orange crop for this year has been destroyed by freezing temperatures. This makes the oranges not fit for eating; only juicing, if that. It's going to be at least a $1 billion loss. And it will affect trucking and food service industries, not just the fruit growers and harvesters. There was a similar freeze in 1998, and after that, a lot of the orchard owners purchased insurance. (Who knew you could buy insurance for weather freezing your oranges?) So many of the farmers are better equipped to handle it this time. But these freezes are not only affecting the citrus; it has ruined many of the avocado and strawberry crops this year, too.

Global warming, my ass.

(Oh, these pictures are courtesy of the Fresno Bee. Governor Schwarzenegger is on crutches because he broke his femur skiing over Christmas.)

cherries

I was running around trying to get myself some lunch after my 18 hours of work today and I picked up a bag of cherries at the store. The cherries were perfect... deep purple and almost ready to explode. Just like how we used to pick them off our tree.

In our backyard growing up, we had all kinds of fruit-bearing trees. Pear, plum, grapefruit, grape, cherry. And the guy behind us had a lemon tree with a whole bunch of branches that hung over the fence, so we got those, too. All summer long, we would watch as the fruit ripened on the trees. Our cherry tree was HUGE and very old. It was perfectly placed, too... right next to the pool. What's a kid to do when she's playing all day in the pool, hungry, but doesn't want to dry off and go inside for a snack? Just pluck a few cherries off the tree. Plus, the pits make a wonderful seasoning to the bug stew that we were working on. (I know I posted once about the "bug stew" we made pool side all summer long, but I can't find it! If I find it later when I have more time, I'll post a link. Guess this means I should do a better job categorizing my posts. :-P ) One summer, we decided to weigh every bag we picked... we got 50lbs!

summer sprinklers

Man, it has been hot around here this last week. Well, hot for Southern California in the beginning of June. Reminds me of summers in Fresno, actually. Those hot summer afternoons when the thermometer is well over 100 degrees and all you want to do is play in water, whether its in a pool or a sprinkler.

We had the best sprinklers. One of my favorites was this yellow and orange that was shaped like a clown. For hair, he had these flexible straws that were striped. Turn on the water and it comes out of those little tubes in a totally unpredictable pattern, spraying water everywhere. I can't remember what it was called. I think it was Water Willy or something like that. I tried to google it earlier today, but all it pulled up was porn sites. :-P

ice cream man

I was catching up on my friend Francine's blog and she was talking about the ice cream man. I never thought about it, but I guess they would have the ice cream man in other countries. Why not? Her blog is the coolest, by the way... it's bilingual!

The ice cream man was a huge event around our house in the summer. I grew up in Fresno, which is in the central valley of California. In the summer, it gets hot. Very hot. Like over 100 degrees is the norm. So, in the summer, you live either in the air conditioning or in the pool. Obviously the place to be is in the pool if you're a kid. We were lucky enough to have a pool in our backyard, so a bunch of our friends came over to hang out with us.

Usually once a week, someone would hear the music from the ice cream man's truck. They would yell over the pool noise and we'd all dash out of the pool. The challenge was to find mom, beg her for change and convince her that we absolutely needed ice cream right now, and get him to stop in front of the house. Nearly impossible for one kid, no matter how fast you ran or how quickly mom said yes.

That's where having a brother and sister and at least one friend over helps. One person find mom and beg (usually given to the person who didn't get in trouble that day) and the rest to grab his attention make him stop.

I've tried to take this into my adulthood. Daniel and I will occasionally look at each other on a warm summer evening and say, "It's time for ice cream." Cold Stone Creamery here we come! :-)

summer flashback

Last Sunday, I needed to walk across the street to the drug store for a few things. It was a welcomed break from the long stint of studying I was doing. I turned to go down the "seasonal" aisle, and I saw all these great things for the summer: pool toys, water guns, bubbles, and flip flops.

When I saw those flip flops, I was immediately wisked back to when I was a kid. Every year, Mom would take us to the drug store that was near our house (that is actually still there). We'd go down the seasonal aisle, and we'd each get to pick out a water gun (no "power pumps" back then) and a pair of flip flops, known to us as thongs. Nothing fancy; just something to run around the backyard in or do errands with.

The flip flops I bought on Sunday were a little more fancy than those... I got a pair to function as shower shoes when I have to take a shower at the gym, a white pair with blue beads and a pink pair with straw on the bottom. I'm not sure if flip flops have ever not been sold at the drug store, but this is the first year I've really noticed them. So for about five minutes, I was eight again, trying on thongs in the drug store for the new summer season.

when i grew a moth

I don't know why I was thinking about this earlier today, but it's an interesting childhood memory. And since I'm not doing anything but working, I thought I'd talk about it here.

In our backyard, we had these cool plants in a planter. I'm not sure what kind they were, but they had red or pink flowers all together in a cluster and velvety leaves. They always attracted caterpillars. I had this book where the kid in the book captured a caterpillar, put him in a jar and fed him fresh leaves. In the end, a butterfly came out.

So I took one of those caterpillars and put him in a jar and poked holes in it. I put a branch and fresh leaves for him to eat, plus some droplets of water. He got fatter and fatter, and then started to spin a cocoon around himself while hanging from that branch. I patiently waited for the cocoon to open. I had visions of a bug coming out with little wings. The little wings would expand and thin out and the butterfly would fly away.

When my bug came out, it was a moth!

joy of painting

While I was eating my lunch yesterday, I ran across that old show "Joy of Painting" with that guy with really poofy hair. (Now I know is name is Bob Ross.) I was immediately whisked back to my childhood, when they played this show after Saturday morning cartoons. I would sit there mesmerized that this guy could make an amazing painting in just under 30 minutes. And I was again mesmerized yesterday.

I had almost forgotten how funny he was, saying things like "I'll put a happy little tree here," or "Talk to your tree, give him a name. When people discover your a painter, they expect you to be a litte off, so it's okay." ha ha haaaa

The amazing thing about his show is that he insists that anyone can paint; all it takes is a little practice. Maybe someday I'll get his instructional videos, a palette, a canvas, and see if he's right. Yep, I'm adding painting to my list of things to do when I retire.